The Last Legomance
by Shalimar The Geek
Summary: The companion to 'Social Misfits', coming soon. Delta writes a Legomance, complete with horrific self-insertion. But, as always, the perfect Mary Sue herione is nowhere to be found...Teaser Chapter up!


The Last Legomance :A Sequel to 'Social Misfits in Mary Sue Land'  
  
Author's Note: Well, now that I've got the Mary Sue abomination up, people just can't get enough of it. Really, people, have a little class here, don't you know it's not polite to ask for a sequel via email? Well, regardless of etiquette and alllllll that other crap, I'm going to give the fans what they want. So, even though the first section in what appears to be a series now isn't half-finished, a sequel will be started very soon. VEEEERY soon. This chapter isn't actually a chapter at all, just a 'teaser' to tempt all you skeptics into reading and for the fans to look forward to.  
  
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The companion to 'Social Misfits in MarySueLand', 'The Last Legomance' stars the author herself in the usual rollercoaster ride of rejects, freaks, outcasts of society...and this time SHE is the misfit. Based on a true Messengerland scenario compiled in part by Vega Pleiades, this delightful- sequel? Prequel? It doesn't really specify- piece of fanfiction is sure to delight all fans of the first installment of this soon-to-be series. It features the standard legomance, but warped with the aid of the author's twisted mind and fondness for nonconformity. Self- insertion, out- of-characterness, and several other features for Legomance that have been engraved in stone are bravely salvaged, but with enough insanity to make the reader wonder how Delta has as few fans as she does, the majority of the population of ff.net being chronically whacko. While getting ready for a trout fishing trip, our, uh, herione discovers an astonishing thing in the most unexpected place. Well, maybe not the MOST astonishing, as this is a mockery of a Legomance and many of that particualar genre are 'Elfy Imagically Appearing On Earth'.Read it, morons. ________________________________________________________________________  
  
That short summary is all you get now. Muahahahaha, I am evil.......oh, and you also get the following excerpt. ________________________________________________________________________  
  
"Storm (see, now, I've even got the Mary-Sue-ish self-insertion down pat; Storm is my alter-ego, better known as ::ahem:: DeltaStorm) casually opened the closet, expecting, well, nothing. It's a CLOSET, people, only a closet. And not the Sabrina-style linen closet, either. Just a normal, messy (hey, this is ME we're talking about here) smallish walk-in with a burnt-out lightbulb. So she opened the door, still very groggy as it was FOUR O CLOCK in the morning, a most inhuman hour in the morning. Do it for the trout, Storm, she thought, as she chose a pair of jeans and a shirt while fighting the urge to jump back into bed and not face the ice-cold air coming of the river. It didn't matter that they ran the generator later, she could fish tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. Hey, this was a VACATION house (this particular few sentences tells about a place in Arkansas, where I have had the oppurtunity to visit frequently. Storm is talking about her newly-acquired vacation house here. Really, the trout fishing is great here.), it was meant to sleep in. But that nagging little voice told her to keep going, the fishing would be great, trout for dinner......Storm closed the closet door. She discarded the towel she had previously been wearing and pulled on her clothes, adding a couple of sweaters and a jacket, for even in June the mornings on the river were frigid. All of a sudden, as she picked up her poles, something in the back of her half-conscious mind awoke, something associated with the optics department. Something wasn't right.....something was gone, or was something there that hadn't been there before there now...Storm shook her head as these incoherent thoughts flooded her poor groggy brain. It dawned on her. She walked back to the closet, and opened it. Damn that dead bulb! She couldn't see. There it was: what had been bothering her and what she hadn't noticed the first time she had glanced at it, indifferent only to the call of sleep. Oh. OH. Oh, no. Storm closed the closet, forbidding herself to scream. She was alseep. But, no, she was wide awake. She was drugged. But no, she had finished those antibiotics weeks ago, and kept forgetting to refill her Claratin perscription. No, no, no...it was hallucinations. Probably some adverse effect from sleep deprivation. She opened the closet door again. Nope, no hallucination. She closed the closet door, allowed herself one short scream of mortification, and tossed all plans for fishing out the window. For she had bigger problems now." 


End file.
